


Second Chances

by attackonmyanus



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blowjobs, Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, Minor Fantasy Themes, Minor Violence, Overindulgent Cursing, POV First Person, Rating has changed, This is my first fic lol, i guess, i'm just having a hard time with school and work at the moment, will update eventually - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:13:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6203899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attackonmyanus/pseuds/attackonmyanus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren's not exactly happy with his life. He wants things to change, but isn't sure if they ever will. He wishes he could just have a second chance.</p>
<p>It turns out that he might get one after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Probably Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is my first fic, and no, I don't have any idea what I'm doing. This is unbeta-ed, so any mess ups are all on me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Waking up after a late night at the bar is never fun, but it becomes thirty times as difficult when you wake up next to some naked chick you've never seen before and all you want is a microwaved burrito and a nice long five hour nap. Unfortunately, this dingy apartment happened to be mine, so I couldn't exactly just leave and never have to worry about her again. 

So for a while I just stayed there, completely at the mercy of my dreadful hangover and avoiding coming into any sort of physical contact with the person beside me, until the taste in my mouth and my angry stomach forced me up. Once in the bathroom, I unhappily looked myself over in the mirror, a toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. Sure enough, I looked like complete and utter crap. Yeah, the terrible lighting and the smudges all over the mirror weren't exactly helping, but it was a wonder I had managed to get that woman to come home with me.  I had bags under the bags under my eyes, and my complexion reminded me somewhat of a cantaloupe. Fantastic.

Deciding that it would probably be nice of me to spare that presumably nice young woman any amount of extra regret that I could, I pulled on some clothes, wrote her a little note mentioning the burritos in the freezer and the (most likely) not expired orange juice in the fridge, and booked it. Jean's apartment was only a couple blocks away from mine so I caught a ride there with some buddies, Reiner, Bert, and Annie. They dropped me off outside the complex, and since they hadn't mentioned my awful appearance I offered to treat them all to a drink sometime. I was nothing if not a gentleman, albeit a sticky one.

Jean and I had been grade-A best buds since the fourth grade, so when he answered his door to the sight of me dead on my feet, he looked politely concerned. "Jesus, you look like shit."

I grumbled and pushed past him, flopping down on his couch the second it was in reaching distance. I couldn't even begin to count the amount of times I've passed out on this couch, and the springs stabbing into my back were somehow comforting. "I had a rough night."

"The usual?" he asked, slouching down in the recliner beside the couch and propping his feet up on the armrest, right beside my face.

After unceremoniously dumping them to the floor, I shrugged lazily and yawned. "Guess so. Don't really remember." He snorted, turning on the T.V. "I'm just really tired, and the chick at my place was making it kind of hard to relax."

"Ah, gotcha. I'll wake you up in a couple hours."

He did wake me up, and I guess eight hours counted as a couple to him. I complained, but he knew I was grateful. Of course, in retribution for my whining, he was going to make me walk back to my apartment, so I called him a dicknugget, clapped him on the back, and headed out.

I grew up in this town, and despite the plans of going far away and never returning I had made as a teen, I'd managed to get stuck here. There I was, twenty-four, no car, a deadbeat job, and a rundown apartment. I didn't even have a girlfriend or a kid to make up for it. By now I thought I'd have a steady, well paying job, a nice studio apartment/bachelor pad, and a Lamborghini. The last one was a bit of a long-shot, but I had big dreams.

_ Playboy extraordinaire. _ So much for that.

I got offered a ride, and I was tempted because my stomach was on fire with hunger, but I needed the fresh air.

My dreams have changed a lot. I'm tired now, all the time. I drink too much and I'm worried about my liver. No matter how many times Jean says "you just need to get laid" and I take his advice, I don't feel any better. Hell, I feel even worse. I want a steady relationship, I want to get out of this town and start a real life. But I don't know how. And when I try to think about it, I get frustrated, and when I'm frustrated I get drunk, which in turn means I get laid, and the goddamn cycle starts up all over again. I'm just so tired. I say it all the time, to Jean, to Mikasa, to my mom. 'Sorry, I'm just tired.' I want help, I need help, but I don't know how to ask for it.

I finally reached my street, stuffing my hands in my pockets and starting across the road, lost in thought. I knew my friends and family were worried about me, and that made me feel sick. Being a liability was one thing, and a burden something else entirely.

In hindsight, I guess jaywalking wasn't the smartest choice, but in my defense the streets were usually pretty tame this time of night. There was a drawn out honk behind me, and I turned to flip whoever it was off, only to come face-to-face with the grill of a semi. I had a split second to feel my knees lock up in terror and hope there was a heaven before-

Nothing.

  
  


I'm talking to Mikasa, and my parents are standing to the side, smiling at me.  The sun was shining, and the ever-present pound of a hangover was missing, so I felt good. It was nice to see Mikasa again, she'd been away at law school for so long. Now that I thought about it, she wasn't due to fly back over until Christmas. 

"What are you doing here?" I asked, but it was Mikasa's voice, not mine, that spoke the question. It was whispered, and shadowed by a sob from my mother. I looked between them, confused. The room suddenly felt a lot darker. My dad had his arm around both my sister and mom, and their faces showed disbelief, and despair. Mom was crying, and I wanted to ask her why, but suddenly I couldn't move.

"Is this him?" someone asked from above my head. I realized I was lying down, the cold bite of metal against my back. My mother hid her face in my dad's shoulder, sobbing, and Mikasa just stared at me, her eyes dark. "Is this your son, Eren Yeager?"

A moment of silence. "Yes," my father said, and a white sheet was pulled up over my head.

  
  


I jerked up with a gasp, my fingers clenched in cool sheets. The room around me was dim, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust. White curtains, closed across large windows, lined both walls to either side of me. I was sitting up in a king-sized bed, the mattress soft yet firm beneath me. Obviously expensive, and obviously not mine. I eyed my surroundings, taking in clean lines and dark, modern colors. Whoever's apartment I was in liked things posh, and kept their room neat. I threw my legs over the side of the bed, about to get up, and nearly moaned at the carpet my toes sunk into.  _ Pure heaven. _ It had a cloud-like texture, and seemed almost warm. For a moment I had the disconcerting thought that this was what it would feel like to walk on a live sheep.

Standing, I made my way over to a window, rubbing my toes into the carpet along the way. I shifted the curtain aside and immediately my head began to whirl. Goddamn. A city sprawled out below me, lights winking in an early morning fog. I had to be at least ten stories up. The moment of awe was overrun by the realization that I had no clue where I was, who I'd come here with, or what I'd done with them. What worried me even more was that so far this apartment didn't look like it was owned by some young, rich single lady. It screamed something more along the lines of 'married with two kids.' And that could be a problem.

Since I didn't want to make a habit out of accidentally-meet-the-husband situations, I figured it was about time for me to get out of there.

I was surprised to look down and see that I was actually wearing clothes, sweatpants and socks-  _ I really hope these aren't the husband's _ \- and that there weren't any more littered across the floor where they usually ended up after a tryst. Figuring they'd probably be scattered in the living room instead, I made my way over to the door, which stood ajar, letting in a narrow strip of light, and, as I got closer, the soft chords of a classic rock song. I paused and listened, but, hearing nothing else, eased the door open on silent hinges and stepped through into a bright, spacious hallway.

There was an open door to my right, showing a glimpse of a pristine bathroom, and another at the end of the hall, although I couldn't see what it led into. The space to my left was open, filled with morning light. I was feeling way out of place, the high walls, tall ceilings, and floor-to-ceiling windows simply a lot  _ more  _ than I was used to. I looked around helplessly, the wood floor a surprisingly nice temperature against the soles of my feet, asking myself _ how the hell did I get here? _

And then, suddenly, I wasn't alone.

"What are you doing up so early?"

I spun around, my heartbeat quickening. A guy was peering up at me from a red couch, an easy smile on his lips. He was surrounded by thick textbooks, and had a laptop perched on his knees. I gaped uselessly, sweating under his gaze. He wasn't very intimidating, his stature much smaller than mine and his blond hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, but I floundered nonetheless.

He pushed his large-framed glasses up into his hair, holding his straight fringe back, and raised an eyebrow.

Where the hell was I?

"Uh," I gulped. "I... couldn't sleep?" The question ended as a squeak.

The guy's smile returned and his head tilted to the side, stray golden hairs hanging against his cheek. Whoa. "Dreaming about me?"

When all I responded with was a garbled, "Ah, wha-" I saw something like embarrassment flit across his face, but only for a second. He set the laptop aside and stood, sliding his feet into a pair of slippers. He moved toward me, and I crossed my arms over my bare chest, feeling exposed. The clothes he wore were made for sleeping; the shirt hung from his slender frame in a way that suggested comfort, and his pants were knee length and looked as if they were made from silk. They clung to his thighs. He stopped in front of me, something unsure in his eyes.

The song playing in the background changed to something light and upbeat, so I tried to relax along with it. Which turned out to be very difficult, considering the circumstances. The guy fiddled with the hem of his shirt, his eyes drifting along somewhere around my shoulder.

I had a really weird feeling about this. This guy... he didn't look at me like I was a stranger, or someone he had just met the night before. He looked at me like he knew me. And that was weird, because I was pretty sure I had never seen him before.

But at the same time, I felt like I had to know him, from somewhere. Stranger yet, I felt like I'd been here before. I had no memory of this place, or this guy, so everything shouldn't have felt so familiar. I thought about the semi, and the weird dream I had.

I should be dead. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I took a moment to just breathe.The guy was silent, although his eyes flicked up to my face every few seconds. _ I should be dead. _ In that dream, I'd been- I'd been in a fucking  _ morgue _ , and had watched my parents and sister  _ identify my body. _

Maybe that wasn't a dream, and this was some sort of afterlife. While it was a stupid, crazy thought, it would explain how weird this all was. I decided that this situation deserved some caution.

"This is a nice apartment," I blurted, and winced at how loud my voice came out.

The guy nodded slowly, smiling a funny little smile. He seemed relieved that I had been the one to break the silence. "Yeahhh, it is." He turned, his eyes sweeping the space around us. "That's kind of why we picked it, dumby," he said, his voice carrying a nervous laugh.

We. So, I was assuming that he was my roommate, and that, somehow, I could manage to afford living here. Wherever here was, of course.

“And we’re uh...roommates?”

His brows dropped. “Are you feeling ok?” he asked, raising a hand to my forehead.

I couldn’t help but jerk back in surprise, and his hand trembled, hovering in the air. He looked bewildered. “Look, I just woke up here, and I don’t really know what’s going on, so can you please tell me what I’m doing here?” My voice was more panicked than I would have liked it to be.

“Eren,” he said, hesitantly stepping closer and setting his hands on my shoulders. “What’s going on with you? You were fine yesterday. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yesterday? I wasn’t here yesterday. I was-” The guy was starting to look pretty freaked out, so I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “I- I don’t know. I guess I just had a really weird dream or something.”

“If you say so.” He moved into the kitchen, separated from this room, which was a living room judging by the flatscreen at one end of it, by a glossy kitchen island. I stood there, awkward and not knowing what to do with myself, while he switched on a coffee pot and leaned up against the counter, his eyes downcast. “Well, since you’re up I’ll make you some coffee.” He quickly seemed to decide something, though, because suddenly his eyes were on mine, and they were determined. His tone was hard. “Roommates? Really? I know things haven’t exactly been the best lately but-” He sighed. “Honestly.”

“Uh.” I was lost, completely lost.

“Was it just the dream?” He was standing in front of me again, and his eyes were pleading. “Eren? Please tell me that that’s all it was.”

I nodded, not knowing what else to do.

His gaze was still hesitant, but it got softer all the same, and a smile toyed with the corners of his lips. Brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, eyes twinkling, he reached across to me again, and his fingers trailed teasingly up my bicep. I watched, entranced by utter confusion and, increasingly, dread.

This guy…he didn’t think…?

“I’m guessing you’re stressed about the engagement,” he said, his nails scratching softly across my skin. An involuntary shiver sped up my spine.

My hand was suddenly feeling suspiciously heavy. My left hand. I lifted it cautiously, afraid of what I would see, and lo and behold-

There was a silver engagement ring sitting snugly on my ring finger, innocently incriminating.

The matching one on his finger was enough to make my breath leave me in a rush and my knees nearly give out beneath me. I couldn’t hear what he said next over the rushing in my ears, but he was pulling me back toward the bedroom, so I got the gist.


	2. I've Missed You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's chapter two. I would have updated sooner, but I had some internet problems, and that stalled me good. 
> 
> On another note, this is the first porn I've ever made available to the public, so I'm feeling a bit antsy.
> 
> Still unbeta-ed, so tell me if you see any mistakes.

If I’d had any idea what was going on, I might have protested.

But I didn’t, so I just sweated nervously as he pushed me into the room, the door closing behind him. I felt my calves bump into the mattress, and had to steady myself. His smile was coy; he looked at me through golden lashes and pulled the tie and his glasses from his hair. It fell to his shoulders in a gentle, wavy mess, emphasizing the sudden rosy color in his cheeks. The tension in the air made my hands shake and anxious butterflies rile up in my stomach, something that I couldn’t remember experiencing since high school.

I was no shy virgin, to say the least. I didn’t know what to expect from this guy, however, and my nerves were getting the best of me. And yet, somehow, I couldn’t say I wasn’t... _interested_ in what he had to show me.

He came closer, eyes roaming down my torso, making my gut burn. Fingers traced over my skin, and one hand found its way to my jaw, the other feeling across my ribcage. My breath sped up as he pulled me down, my eyes wide when he kissed me. His words were warm against my lips. “Just something quick, before I have to leave-” And his hands were going down, tugging at my sweatpants. He was almost panting.

The waistband got caught a little on my erection, and he made quick work of fixing that, shoving the pants down over my thighs. I was half-hard, and I felt kind of weird about it, but not weird enough to ask him to stop. The way he was biting his lip gave me a good idea of where this was heading, and I had no intention of refusing _that_. I had a feeling that this wasn’t something new to him, because he seemed all too comfortable with just grabbing my cock and giving me a few quick, dry strokes. That earned him a surprised grunt, and he seemed satisfied with it.

Pushing me down by the shoulders, so I was seated on the bed, he settled down between my knees, eyes focused on the hand working me over. The other wandered over my stomach, scratching through the dark hair leading down from my navel, making my thighs twitch. I leaned back on my fists, watching him through a haze of lust and trepidation. I could faintly hear “Bennie and the Jets” playing from the living room, and somehow found it in me to chuckle. It made him look up at me, and honestly, the way his blue eyes looked, wide and endearingly innocent, had me a hundred times more down to do this in a heartbeat. Not only that, but I was rock-fucking-hard and not at all ashamed of it.

Still, I was unprepared when his head dipped and his lips closed around the head of my cock, and my hand scrabbled uselessly for something to grab onto, finding a hold in his hair. I couldn’t concentrate while his tongue was busy flicking at me like that, so the only thought that made it through my mind was _how fucking great his hair looked clenched in my fist._

He sunk down, his cheeks hollowing wonderfully and his fingers stroking what wouldn’t fit. His mouth was hot and slick, taking me in until I hit the back of his throat, and I was gone. I was damn sure my soul had left my body, but then he _swallowed_ , and I reached all new levels of heaven. This guy sure as hell knew what he was doing, because he sucked his way back up, spreading saliva as he went, and scraped his teeth under the head, just how I liked it. I could hear myself moaning, but my eyes were squeezed shut and I didn’t really care.

I regretted that I didn’t know his name. Honestly, I wanted to moan it. “Fuck, damn, that’s‒ oh, _baby_ _”_ took it’s place.

His head bobbed, tongue swirling, and a string of curses left my lips, my hand spasming in his thick, silken hair. A whimper caught me off guard, and my eyes opened, taking in the blush across his cheeks and down the creamy curve of his throat, his brows drawn in and eyes clenched shut. The red, wet lips wrapped sinfully around my shaft-

I was obviously a bit high-strung, because all it took was his tongue dipping into my slit to have me coming. My body jerked, gut clenching and a shudder ripping up my spine as waves of bliss overtook me. Somehow I remembered to try and pull him back even as my head reeled, a mixture of words and sounds spilling out of me. He only let me hold him back a little, and not nearly enough to avoid the cum that landed on his tongue. I could tell it was completely intentional by the way he waited for it, pumping me until the last, weak spurt was safe inside.

And boy, was he a fucking sight to behold. Hair all fluffed up, lips swollen, and, _oh lord_ , cum in his mouth. My jaw hung slack as I watched a sticky string of it roll over his lip to land on his chin, only to get swept up by his tongue.

It was almost amusing how shy his eyes were. He’d just reduced me to a quaking pile of uncomprehending mush, and yet he had the audacity to appear so demure.

By now the sun was filtering clearly through the curtains, and it shined prettily off the spit on his lips. My arms gave out and I let myself fall back against the sheets, legs and brain numb. He kissed my stomach, hands rubbing soothingly over my hip bones, and then his warmth was gone, replaced by a slight chill that made the hair on my legs stand up. I could hear him moving around the edge of the bed, and turned my head to watch his progress. He noticed my attention and smiled at me over his shoulder, stretching and giving me a nice long look at his plump backside.

He had the sort of figure that most women would die for. All round curves, from his cute arms to his heavy hips, but a tiny little waist and soft, effeminate legs. The way he looked made my stomach twist, and, had he been a woman, I knew I would have been all over him.

The guy had done a good job at helping me relax, because my head was finally clear enough to actually think over recent events, maybe even make some sense out of them. My eyes followed him as he gathered clothes from the dresser and‒ Jesus ‒walk in closet, humming. I knew two things for sure; one, I lived here, in this fancy-ass apartment, and two, I was engaged to this blond dick-sucking-devil. How the the hell that happened I had no idea, but I think I understood a bit. An ass like that just couldn’t be ignored.

Engaged, though? That wasn’t something I expected from myself, under any circumstances. I could barely maintain a sex-based relationship, let alone something akin to _marriage_. While I’d been surprised by the apartment, this was... truly something else.

I still didn’t know where I was, which was flipping great, but I had some bigger fish to fry.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower before I head out,” the guy said, interrupting my thoughts.

I needed to develop a better approach to these things, so I thought for a second before speaking. “Where are you going again? You kinda... wiped my mind.”

He laughed and the smile he gave me was comfortable, intimate, a dimple appearing on his cheek. “My morning class starts in an hour. So I would say you could join me, but…” He bit his lip. “Wouldn’t have much time.”

Heat rose in my face and I huffed. “Th-that’s ok.” I closed my eyes wearily, confused by the fast tempo of my heart, but a hand lightly slapped my knee and I was forced to face the source of my bewilderment.

“No sleeping,” he said, giving me an accusatory look. “I can’t have you missing work again. Jean chewed me out pretty hard last time-”

That had me sitting up real quick. “Jean?” The guy’s head tilted questioningly. “Jean’s here?”

He nodded and gave me that weird smile again. “Must’ve been some dream,” he said, and it sounded a bit incriminating so I shrugged and avoided his gaze. After a moment he continued. “By the way, your, uh, your dick’s still hanging out.”

 _Fucking hell_. He just laughed and left the room, leaving me to yank my sweatpants back up in peace.

A few minutes later I heard the shower start up, and thinking about him naked- and wet- gave me the inexplicable urge to jerk off, but considering the sensitive state of my freshly-sated body almost any course of action other than that would probably be best. Not to mention the freakish state of my rapidly curveballing sexuality.

Flopping back on the pillows, I viciously rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes and groaned out my frustrations. I didn’t know what to do with myself. This all felt so weird, like waking up from a bad dream.

Whatever. On the bright side, Jean was here, and that brought some semblance of reality into wherever I was, right? It meant I wasn’t dead, because I knew Jean wasn’t dead. I’d seen him that morning, and, unless he’d miraculously gotten hit by a speeding semi too, he was perfectly fine, probably lounging on his lazy ass in his apartment like always. I took what that guy- _my fiance_ \- said earlier to mean that Jean and I still worked together, and that was a relief. I was dying to see a familiar face, if only to prove that this was all real. It’s not like I missed that shitty horseface.

My musings kept me busy for a while, but eventually the ceiling got boring enough that I forced myself up and into the sitting room, thinking it best that I get acquainted with my new living quarters.

I couldn’t even imagine how expensive this place must be. I ran a hand over the glass-top coffee table and not a speck of dust came up with it. I doubted my fiance or I had the time to do this much cleaning, and that meant a freaking _maid_ did it, which seemed a little excessive. The apartment, the furniture, a maid- jesus, where did I get all this money I apparently have? Do I rob banks for a living?

That was definitely a thought.

A cabinet displaying an assortment of DVDs and nicknacks sat snug underneath the TV, and I made my way around the sofa to examine the picture frames resting atop it. My chest constricted, and I almost couldn’t breathe. They were pictures of me and my fiance, holding hands and smiling and doing generally couple-y things. We were at a zoo in one, Mikasa and my parents in the background, and hiking in another. The person I saw was me, but it wasn’t at the same time. His eyes were green, his hair brown, like mine. But his clothes looked well-made, and he had a guy hanging off his arm, in plain sight of my parents, which was something I sure as hell would never do.

At the same time, he looked happy, _I_ looked happy, and I almost felt jealous. Of myself.

My fingers shook as I eased one of the pictures out of its frame, turning it over to look at what was written on the back.

_Eren and Armin, the Grand Canyon, 2014._

Eren and Armin, the Grand Canyon, 2014.

Eren and Armin.

Armin.

For the second time since I had woken up that morning, my world spun. This place just kept getting more and more surreal. Because I _knew_ Armin. Or at least I used to. No wonder he had looked so familiar. It had been such a long time that I couldn’t even match him with the boy I used to know, but I could definitely see it now. The hair, like golden thread, or sunflower petals, and the eyes, blue as the sky on a spring day. He’d changed a lot; his hair was shorter then, his eyes like saucers, and his face fuller, chubbier. None of that mattered, because I knew him.

He chose that moment to breeze into the room, followed by the clean scent of shower. I turned to look at him, but my mind and body were blank. His hair was pulled back again, and he was wearing a soft, downy cardigan over a simple tee and blue jeans. He gave the impression of casualty, but I could tell his outfit was expensive. He smiled at me, _Armin_ smiled at me- my fiance, Armin, who was a he- smiled at me and grabbed a book bag from a set of hooks near the front door.

“I’m heading out,” he said, and I marveled at the sound of his voice. Clear, and soft, just like it used to be. “Don’t forget to grab something to eat before you go to work, ok?” He leaned up, kissed me, and the air left my lungs in a rush. “Love you, see you after work.”

He had his hand on the doorknob when I spoke. “Armin?” My voice was rough with emotion, shaking uncertainly.

He paused and asked, “Yes?” over his shoulder.

“I’ve missed- I’ll miss you.” Armin blinked, so I stammered out another, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, dumby,” he said with a laugh, and walked out the door, leaving me with a wave and a smile.

Left me standing in the living room with the memory of his funeral heavy on my mind.


	3. Busty, Domineering Asian Women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun to write, mostly because it took me a bit out of my comfort zone. I always seem to get all clogged up and awkward when my characters go somewhere I'm not like incredibly familiar with, but this flowed well and I actually enjoyed it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it too :D.

There was a photo album stashed underneath a German-to-English dictionary in the cabinet, and my lungs ached with the need to look through it. I didn’t know when I was supposed to go to work, though, or where I worked, for that matter, so I just took a deep breath and decided to save it for later.

I couldn’t really believe that I was here, that Armin was here. I went to his funeral, I let his mother hold me as she cried. He died in the seventh grade, when we were both twelve, in a school bus accident along with seven other kids. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to our little town, and, honestly, the tipping point for my behavioral problems.

I’d always been the rambunctious sort, but after that my temper got real short and I started getting into a lot of fights. I wasn’t the only one, because Jean lost someone that day too, and it hit him hard as well. Jean really helped me out, and I him, but I still managed to push Mikasa and my parents away. Mikasa ended up leaving for freaking Harvard so she wouldn’t have to deal with me, not that she’d ever admit it, and my mom had stopped calling me at any time except holidays years ago.

It was depressing, and I didn’t really like thinking about it.

And yet, Armin was here, somehow, like he’d never died in the first place. My childhood best friend, who always rode the bus to school with his nose buried in a book, and who died that way. Twelve-fucking-years-old, drowning in a bus when it slid on the icy winter road and rolled into a lake. I felt myself shudder just thinking about it and went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face before I threw up.

Happening to glance at myself in the mirror, I did a double-take and gaped at myself stupidly. “Oh, give me a fucking break.” I apparently had a completely different style here, because instead of my long hair and pierced ears, I had a short, messy head full of hair, parted down the middle, and perfectly unblemished ears, all of which I had apparently been ignorant enough not to notice from the photos in the living room. I checked, and yep, I was even missing that stupid tattoo I had behind my ear that I could never seem to remember getting. The dark circles under my eyes were missing, too, and my skin looked- you got it- _not_ like a cantaloupe. Surprising, because I would’ve expected to drag that along with me, no matter where the hell I went.

I looked _healthy_ , for heaven’s-sake. I sighed and moved on with my business, peeing and quickly shaving. As I reached for one of the toothbrushes I saw in a little cup on the counter, though, I noticed the colorful stick-on letters adhered to them, one an ‘A’, and the other an ‘E’. I was blushing before I could stop myself, and grabbed the ‘E’ toothbrush before I could think anything embarrassing.

 

 

Getting dressed turned out to be a much bigger hassle than I was expecting, and mainly because I had no fucking clue what to wear. I felt like a teenage girl, but all the clothes I owned seemed to be designer. I didn’t want to look, but I did anyway, and found out that the sweatpants I had casually been wearing all morning were Calvin motherfucking Klein. Fan-flipping-tastic.

I felt like a greasy monkey handling cashmere so I went for the most inconspicuous thing at my disposal; a pair of jeans- I refused to look at the tag- and a button-down shirt, fancy-shmancy cuffs and all. I found a nice pair of boots in the back of the closet, and was shoving my feet into them when a sharp ringing started going off through the apartment.

It felt like I traipsed through the entire apartment twice, discovering that the back room was a spare-room-made-office along the way, before I located the source of the sound. It was coming from a coat hanging up on the hooks Armin had taken his bag from earlier, and I rifled through its pockets, pulling out a wallet and a cellphone. Upon further inspection the wallet turned out to be mine; it had my ID in it. The cell had the name “Horse” flashing across its screen.

My heart jumped up into my throat, because there was only one person who that could be.

I answered the call, shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone. “H-hello?”

Silence, and then, “Hey, dickhead.”

Breathing out a sigh of relief, I leaned against the wall with a smile. “Jean.”

“Where the fuck are you? I’ve been waitin’ in your office for almost twenty minutes!” _My office?_ “God, you aren’t fuckin’ Arlert right now, are you?”

It took me a second to realize he meant Armin. “Ah, no! Jesus, no. I just got...sidetracked.”

“Yeah, ok,” Jean said with a snort.

“Look, I’m heading out the door right now and I’ll be there- at my...office?- soon.” Grabbing the coat, I stepped out the door, making sure to close it loud enough that Jean could hear it.

“You better be.” There was a sound like rustling papers from his end. “If you’re not here in half an hour, I’m shreddin’ all those files you put together yesterday.”

I asked, “What?” but he had already hung up, so I stared at the phone for a second before grinning and making my way down the sunny hall. The wall opposite to the one housing my apartment was covered in more floor-length windows, and I looked out over the towering buildings of Mitras, the brightness of it almost hurting my eyes.

The elevator was empty when it reached me, but paused midway down to let on a chatting couple, who greeted me with smiles. I smiled back nervously and twiddled my thumbs until we reached the first floor and went our separate ways. It wasn’t until I was in the lobby, being acknowledged by the- what do they call it? concierge?-, that I remembered that I didn’t know what to do, or where to go. I frantically went through the pockets of the coat again, and could’ve cried when I found a pair of car keys if I hadn’t been in public.

Of course, once I made it to the parking garage I was faced with what was probably a hundred or so cars, but I knew that sometimes car keys have those little buttons that unlock the doors from a distance, so I pushed that and was immediately rewarded with a beep and a flash of headlights to my left. I was sure my heart literally stopped when I saw what I would be driving, and heaven shined its light down on me. I’m sure I looked like a damned fool when I skipped over to the black Mercedes waiting for me.

Straight up giggling, I slid into the driver’s seat and ran a hand down the dash. Boy oh boy, wasn’t I just the luckiest son of a bitch to be walking this earth. The key fit smoothly into the ignition, and I closed my eyes with a groan when the car started up, steady and rumbling.

Things were going suspiciously smoothly, even my problem of where to go being solved by the GPS hooked up to the vehicle, with my office programmed into its system.

Nevertheless, I felt like a god as I peeled out of there.

 

 

The building I pulled up to, encouraged by the GPS lady piping up with a cheery “You have reached your destination”, was made of glass and steel, and practically sparkled. It was only three floors tall, but ornate, pleasing shrubbery leading up to the front doors.

I felt completely out of place as I walked up, every bone in my body telling me I wasn’t supposed to be here. That this life wasn’t for me. Taking one last look at the Mercedes behind me, I squared both my shoulders and my resolve and strode right in, head held high. I gulped audibly when I had to pass a secretary sitting at a desk, but she just greeted me with a smile and a nod. My fears suddenly seemed stupid; this was normal to everyone here, they probably saw me all the time, and I had no reason to worry that someone might recognize me as an imposter and throw me out.

Stopping by the enameled sign by the elevator, I looked through the names until I saw _Yeager, E. 2C_ under the title _Co-Founder_ . _Kirstein, J._ was beneath it, with the same inscription, but a different room number. The _C_ button in the elevator took me up to the third floor, and after that it was easy to find my office. The doorknob slid through the sweat on my palm so I had to wipe it on my pants before I opened the door.

To my relief, it was actually Jean in there, sitting on the corner of a desk that I assumed was mine. He didn’t look much different, other than the snazzy suit he was wearing. Raising a cocky eyebrow, he slapped a huge, yellow file folder on my desk and asked, “Casual day?”

The grin on my face wavered. “Huh?”

He gestured to my body, and I looked down. Ah. Comparing my and his attire, I realized I was a bit underdressed. “Oh. Yeah, I don’t know. I guess.”

Jean rolled his eyes and moved to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. He got comfortable, slinging an arm around the back of the chair, basically exhibiting the classic behavior of the Jean I know and hate. After a moment of silence, with me just standing behind him, uncomfortable, he turned around in his chair to give me an annoyed look. “Can you sit the fuck down? You’re givin’ me the creeps.”

Yep, this was definitely Jean. “Christ,” is the the only thing I said, nervously going around the desk to sink into the cushy leather chair behind it. Looking over the office, the glossy windows and dark wood floor, I felt...stupid. Like a complete, major tool. This was all so fucking dumb. I picked at the corner of the file and stared at the man in front of me, not knowing what to do.

Jean watched me with a weird look. “You feelin’ alright?” I opened my mouth to answer but he waved a hand and cut me off. “Is it Armin again? Because, dude, I know you don’t wanna be an asshole but you’re obviously not happy like this. And that kinda matters, ya’ know?”

“Uh.” Was the other me having problems with Armin? “No? It’s not Armin. E-everything’s fine there.”

Another raised eyebrow, and I shifted uneasily. “Alright,” he said carefully. “Just know you’ve always got me to talk to, if you need it.”

“Thanks.” We looked at each other agreeably before awkwardly snapping out of our little intimate moment, clearing our throats and avoiding each other’s eyes.

He spoke first. “Fuck, anyway. About the event goin’ on tonight- I finally got ahold of that advertising firm, and they’re gonna be plastering our ads and shit all over town, even sendin’ out fuckin’ fliers, so we’ve got nothin’ to worry about.” Standing and straightening his suit, he gestured to the file in my hands. “Everything you need to know is in there- the corporate bastards’ info and all that. Learn it, live it, and we’ll be right as rain.”

Other than the fact that everything he said was complete gibberish to me, I thought I understood what was going on. “So, uh, the event? I kind of… forgot… where all that’s happening.”

The look Jean gave me clearly said _you fuckin’ stupid or somethin’?_ “Are you high? No, seriously, _are you high?_ ” Without letting me answer, he groaned at the ceiling and looked as if he would be banging his head against the wall if it was close enough. “The mother. Fuckin’. Bar. Where the fuck else, Eren? Do you have shit for brains?”

“I know, I know! I was just shitting you.” I tried to laugh it off, but I don’t think I convinced him.

“Whatever man. I’m out.” He left, but something occurred to me and I called after him. His head poked back through the door. “What?”

“Can I bring Armin with me?”

I was getting used to the weird looks I was increasingly being given. This one showed speculation, and confusion. “Well, yeah. Bring whoever you want. The more the merrier, and all that crap.” With one last thoughtful glance, his brows furrowed comically, Jean left, the door closing softly behind him.

As I sat there in silence, I realized that I had been late, and he had not gone through with his threat. Sitting atop the document shredder to my right was a stack of files, utterly unshredded.

 

 

One lesson I’d learned so far- office jobs are exhausting.

I had people coming in every ten or fifteen minutes, twenty if I was lucky, asking about random shit that I had no idea how to deal with. I made it up when I could, and asked them what they thought when I couldn’t. And weirder yet, I wasn’t just some worker drone for once. I was literally the boss, the top-dog. I hadn’t been sure what ‘co-founder’ meant, but from what I’d gathered it basically meant that Jean and I co-owned whatever company this was. Jean had talked about “the event at the bar”, so… we owned a bar?

Now, in the other place I’d worked at a bar, too, but I definitely hadn’t fucking _owned_ it. I could kind of see where all the money came from, especially if the bar was successful.

I snooped through the computer in my office- although, I guess it wasn’t technically snooping, if it was mine- and found my work schedule, so at least I knew when I got to leave, as well as some not-so-carefully concealed porn. It was some really freaky shit, and made me wonder exactly what kind of guy I was here.

A guy who liked busty, domineering Asian women, apparently.

By the time I got off for an hour-long lunch, I was considering downing some sleep-aide just to get through the day. Jean came in, looking sober, to tell me we couldn’t have lunch together because his mother-in-law wanted to spend some quality time with him. Which sparked a nearly shouted question of “You’re married?!” from me, and another strange spazz attack from him. This time, though, he asked me if I’d been abducted (and probed) by aliens.

Realizing that I was being left alone for an hour, with only the numbers of some takeout Chinese restaurants, I dug through my pockets to find my cellphone again and, after a moment of hesitation, chose 'Armin' out of my contacts.

I held my breath while it rung, and let it out hard when he answered.

“Hey, Eren.” His voice sounded so small compared to all the racket I’d been hearing that day. It struck me as almost soothing. I could hear people talking around him.

“H-hey.”

“What’s up? You don’t normally call while I’m at school.”

“Well I was just wondering-” For some reason, it was hard to speak. I felt like I was asking someone out for the first time. “Are you, uh, are you busy? Like right now?”

He hummed out a negative and said, “No, I was just heading to the quad with some friends for burgers. Why? Something wrong?”

“Oh no,” I said quickly, wanting to dispel the worry in his words. “I was just hoping that we could, I don’t know… get some lunch together?” He was silent, so I continued. “Just the two of us?”

When he spoke, he sounded shy. “Yeah, ok. That sounds good.”

“Cool.” Relief ebbed through me.

“Um, come pick me up?” he suggested, and I agreed. “I’ll be waiting in the parking lot.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

I was about to hang up, but he murmured, “Hey, Eren?”

“...Yeah?”

“I love you.”

I could feel myself blushing. “I love you too, Armin.”

And I think I meant it, but if I didn’t I knew I could learn to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'd be hard not to love him, amiright?
> 
> Shoutout to arminsanderens for sending me such a nice ask on tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on my tumblr: http://attack-on-my-anus.tumblr.com/
> 
> Feedback would be greatly appreciated.


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